The lounge was full of Irish's shadow, from the bed, window, sofas, bathroom, to even corridors.
Lies were too beautiful, so beautiful that he could not tell the truth and falsehood. He forgot too much, forgot that women's minds were complex!
In front of the mirror, Joseph's eyes became extremely cold, and the harsh eyebrow tips were also stained with frost coldness. He briskly waved away the appearance of Irish in his head and raised his hand. The bath liquid was thrown into the trash can.
An hour later, Joseph came out of the lounge.
As he finished washing, the tiredness in his brows disappeared. He changed into a black shirt, a pair of dark grey suit trousers, no tie, two buttons open, sleeves rolled up on his elbows, and looked low-key and languid.
